


Mediocre Execution

by gyllgii



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: (takes place at some point post series x), Body Worship, F/F, Femslash, Married Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:59:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyllgii/pseuds/gyllgii
Summary: Arlene decides to put the shiny trousers at the back of the wardrobe to good use.





	Mediocre Execution

“This is ridiculous.” 

“This is sexy.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever worn this much makeup in my life.” 

“Liar, I saw you on Mimas.” 

“There’s enough hairspray in this wig to make another hole in Earth’s ozone layer.” 

Lister wrinkled her nose – only partially because of the admittedly pungent smell of hair products. 

“Stop complaining, Rimmer. This was your idea in the first place.” Not that she had required all that much convincing. She was, after all, a proud lover of the exceedingly cheesy. A little roleplay in the bedroom was nowhere near as kinky as Lister was willing to go. 

The contrast of Rimmer, fully decked out in her Ace garb, with her very Rimmer-y scowl would have been hilarious if it weren’t so incredibly attractive. The odd shiny material hugged what little curves the hologram had just perfectly. A regular Sarah Connor in bacofoil. 

Rimmer slipped the stupid jacket off her shoulders, revealing the plain white tank top she wore beneath. Her lightly muscled biceps flexed slightly with the movement, and Lister felt her heart rate start to pick up embarrassingly at the sight. 

Something in her expression must have suggested appreciation, because Rimmer cocked her hip slightly to the side and actually _preened._

“Like what you see, Listy?” 

Lister cursed mentally. Her poker face was getting really sloppy. 

“Nah,” she deadpanned, not even trying to sound convincing. “It’s just I always forget you’re not a scrawny streak o’ piss anymore.” 

Rimmer looked put out for all of a millisecond, before her posture straightened and her eyes narrowed coyly. “Why Spanners, my old gal,” she purred. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“C’mon then, Tiger,” Lister jokingly made a ‘come hither’ movement with her finger. “Show us what you’re made of.” 

Sufficiently antagonised, Rimmer stalked across the room, discarding her belt with the practiced ease of the swashbuckling space hero she’d been. She was less than a foot away when Lister, ever the practical woman, remembered something important and bent double. 

“Wait!” 

Rimmer screeched to a halt so abruptly that it would have made Lister laugh had her attention not been firmly fixed on untying her boot laces. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” 

Rimmer huffed and crossed her arms. 

After ten seconds, she started tapping her foot. 

After another ten, she huffed again. 

“This is really keeping the mood at its most steamy. I know you think I’m incredibly boring, but watching my wife take her shoes off really isn’t the erotic experience you’d think it is.” 

“Aw, hush.” 

After another ten seconds of little success and a lot of silence, even Lister was starting to get annoyed. “For a shoe that’s so incredibly sexy, they really are making sex quite difficult.” 

Rimmer licked her lips, the blush spreading across her face like watercolour. “You know... you can keep them on if you’d like.” 

Lister shook her head emphatically, locs swishing from side to side. “Nah,” she grinned. “Kryten’d have a conniption if I got oil on the sheets again. Plus,” one boot finally popped off. It flew across the room in a perfect arc and thunked heartily against the wall. “These things are practically weapons. And I have no interest in knocking you out if you end up between me legs.” 

Rimmer snorted at that. “It’d take more than that to knock me out, Listy.” 

“I ain’t taking no chances.” The other shoe absconded, and suddenly the height advantage was reversed. Lister spotted the glint in Rimmer’s eye in the nick of time and caught the gloat in an ungraceful kiss that grew softer and more tender with each moment that passed. They broke apart briefly to give Lister the chance to breathe, and, arms still firmly wrapped around the hologram’s slim waist, she used this respite to manoeuvre them both onto the bed in one swift movement. 

Rimmer made a move to get up into a more upright position, but found herself inconveniently straddled by a horny Scouser. 

“Hey!” She said indignantly, the Ace facade disappearing once again. 

“Nope!” Lister settled herself more comfortably on Rimmer’s lap. “It’s Spanners’ turn to be on top, shiny-knickers.” 

“Was that meant to be an innuendo?” She gasped. 

Lister cocked her head to the side and winked. “No - but was it?” 

She was satisfied enough with the strangled squeak she got in response. She found she’d been right when her hand found its way past the waistband of Rimmer’s trousers and met the fabric of her sensible grey underwear. She gave her clit a few teasing nudges with the knuckles of her hand, and made sure she was sufficiently wet before proceeding. 

Rimmer’s simulated breath hitched in her throat as Lister’s finger slid its way inside her. She gave it an experimental pump, then added another, gently curling her fingers upwards. Rimmer rolled her hips, eyes squeezed shut, the want evident on her face. Her carnelian lipstick had smudged at the side of her mouth. Lister positioned her hand so that she could apply pressure on Rimmer’s clit at the same time. 

“You’re really smeggin’ hot, you know that, Arlene?” She murmured lowly, using her free hand to remove the admittedly extravagant wig from the hologram’s head. Evidently her short attention span extended to roleplay. 

She received only a breathless whimper in response. Lister had at been surprised at first all those years ago, and a little disappointed to discover that Rimmer was actually a very quiet person in the bedroom. Years of repression would do that to a person, she supposed. She therefore counted any happy-sounding noise as a win. 

Lister ran her free hand up around Rimmer’s side to rest in the small of her back, and teased a third finger at her entrance. Rimmer screwed her eyes shut with a squeak as it slid inside her. The extra pressure must have done the job, as Lister felt her tense around her hand before relaxing completely. 

Rimmer moaned softly, burying her face in Lister’s shoulder to disguise the sound. She took a full thirty seconds or so to get her bearings again before pulling herself out from beneath the other woman. She arranged herself in a kneeling position and slapped her palms against her thighs twice with purpose, as if she hadn’t been practically glassy-eyed moments before. 

“Right,” Rimmer asserted, though the effect was ruined a bit by the fact that her voice cracked halfway between the ‘i’ and the ‘t’ sound. “Lose the trousers, lassie.” 

“Yes sir!” Lister teased, shimmying out of her khakis with what she hoped was more seduction than eagerness. No sooner had they been discarded than Rimmer’s mouth was on hers again, and she felt a hand creep up beneath the soft black fabric of her t-shirt to gently cup her breast. The other brushed against Lister’s stomach, and she let herself be lowered onto her back. 

Rimmer broke away from the kiss and leaned back, slowly wiping the last of her lipstick away on the back of her wrist. The heavy feeling building up in Lister’s nether regions was growing more intense with each passing second, and she almost felt like telling Rimmer to get on with it and give her the relief she so desperately wanted. She licked her fingers in a rehearsed manner that she’d clearly read about it in some instructional book. Lister pointedly wriggled her hips – her own wetness would be more than enough. 

Rimmer rolled her eyes and arranging herself so that the backs of Lister's knees rested on her shoulders. She alternated between running the pads of her thumbs along the sides of Lister’s labia, and her entire palms across her pelvic region. 

Lister’s ability to banter was rapidly depleting as sheer arousal made it more and more difficult to think coherently. “God -” she panted, almost involuntarily bucking her hips upwards. “Arlie - come on. I’m dyin’ here.” 

She could’ve sworn she saw Rimmer smirk as she ducked her head, but the thought left her head as soon as her tongue made contact with her. 

Lister was only human. The fact that breathing wasn’t exactly one of Rimmer’s essential bodily functions any more had definitely come up a few times before in the context of the bedroom – and by God did she make good use of that advantage. 

The orgasm came uncharacteristically quickly to Lister (but she’d blame the previously rather sex-less month when Rimmer went to gloat later). At current, thighs shaking, Rimmer’s tongue still running languidly against her labia, she couldn’t care less. She released her grip on Rimmer's hair so that she could flop down next to her. Rimmer pulled her close against her. 

“You really are incredible, Deb Lister,” Rimmer whispered softly into the top of her head. Lister curled against Rimmer’s chest. That familiar pseudo-heartbeat, the white noise of Rimmer’s light-bee, buzzed softly against her ear. She yawned, idly drawing a circle with her thumb around the hologram’s hipbone. 

“Y’know, why were you wearing so much slap on Mimas?” 

She felt Rimmer's chest deflate beneath her as she sighed heavily through those famous nostrils. “I don’t even know how many years ago that was anymore, let alone remember a little detail like that.” 

“I mean... it’s not like Todhunter ever wore that much anyway.” 

“Lister, shut up.” 

“It just seems strange, t’sall-” 

“Any coital compliments have now been retroactively redacted.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is what i spent my last day of freedom before college starts tomorrow writing lmao. i wanted it to be longer originally but i gotta sleep


End file.
